Daestrum is of average height and weight for a Dwarf. His skin is almost sickly pale, never really seeing the light of day due to his near compulsory wearing of armor. His skin has an almost leather-like quality to it, a product of his age and the toll battle has had on him. Scars riddle his body, but one particular scar stands out amongst the others, a cross shaped scar which runs vertically over his left eye and horizontally over his right cheek to left. His hair is matted and not particularly well kept, falling plainly from his scalp when not wearing a helm. His stark white hair is thin and reaches midway down his back. His beard is similarly matted, almost never removed from its braids, reaching down to his knees. His eyes almost glow a dull green, perhaps a bi-product of his mother's shamanistic nature.

Daestrum tends to wear whatever armor he can scrap together. Only small parts of his original Rifleman's uniform remain from the Third War, the rest being a hodge-podge of what he has salvaged from his fallen enemies. Rusted chainmail, worn leather, and torn cloth raggedly adorn his body which give him the look of someone who just had a bad encounter with a Gnomish engineer. His one distinguishable feature that marks him as a Wildhammer Dwarf is the ritual tattoo he has on his back of a Frostsaber.

Daestrum's life is not one of great mystery or intrigue. Simply asking about him in the taverns of Ironforge can get you the story of the grizzled old Dwarf. Any drunk can tell you, most of them from knowing first hand, that he is a soldier, through and through. From the day he first stepped into the great mountain city, he displayed the kind of courage and dedication that King Magni prides himself on in his people. He was the son of a warrior in a line of warriors too long to recall, but his father was of note for being a Captain and head of his own battalion- The Ebonbeard Battalion.

He fought a thousand battles against troggs, trolls, and Horde alike. He defended Khaz Modan with the fury and might of Anvilmar himself. He was a proud man, a great man, and he became legend amongst his peers. But as all legends are damned to be lost in time, so too was Daestrum damned to fall far from his youth of glory. The Horde's invasion struck the Dwarven nations hard, and though Ironforge stood strong in the face of this greatest of enemies, the Wildhammer fortress of Grim Batol was failing.

It was there that tragedy gripped the heart of that mighty warrior, who saw his father fall and die in his arms. It was that last of battles that crushed the man who'd become a hero to the Dwarven people and sent him retreating home to give up his life of battle. But battle, we all know so well, does not so easily leave a warrior. Soon, the call to arms reached Daestrum, once more. Lordaeron was in danger, Magni sought to help.

The Ebonbeard Battalion had been defunct for years, but with this threat came a chance for redemption in the eyes of its champion. Daestrum would lead his men to snuff out the enemy facing Lordaeron and claim glory in his father's name!

But we all know the story that followed. Daestrum was lost for seven years in the frozen wastes of Northrend. He watched brothers in arms slaughtered by horrors unspeakable. He returned a changed man, a grim man with only one task burning in his heart. Regret, Fury, and Anguish wrought his soul and he only knew the lust for vengeance against the bastard Prince Arthas for what he had done to him.

Daestrum's pretty well out of character until Clysm drops. Until Arthas is dead, he's dedicated entirely to seeing that task through. Whenever lore officially states it's over, he's back in character. Until then.